


My Playlist For You

by orphan_account



Series: The Things We Do [12]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 03:43:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7084315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tsukki is a sentimental sap too</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Playlist For You

**Author's Note:**

> Tsukki's POV

   I can feel Yamaguchi’s body gently rise then decline due to his steady breathing. His head’s leaning on my right shoulder, his hair lightly grazing my cheek. He’s sleeping peacefully after listening to some music for a while.

   We’re too close to each other, but it's the only way we can listen to music together.

   Yamaguchi has one earbud in his left ear and the other earbud in my right; the earphones binding us together so we’re only a few centimeters apart. (There’s no way I’m complaining though.)

   The bus drives toward Karasuno High and streetlights pass through the big glass windows of the oddly quiet bus.

    _Everyone, even the simpletons and impulsive idiots, must be asleep,_ I think not bothering to even glance at them. Instead I continue to gaze out the window.

   For the most part I'm only able to see dark outlines of houses and trees and the range of yellow to white hue lights from pieces and street lamps and convenience stores that are still open.

   I’m uncertain if it's because of the rare moment of silence or because I'm more alive at night, but everything feels serene. Then again, it might just be because _he's_ next to me.

   Yamaguchi shifts his body a little. He nestles his head in between the crook of my shoulder, subconsciously hugging my arm to snuggle closer.

   I don't brush him off though. I let him get as close as he could and let him use me as a pillow.

    _He’s like a kid sometimes,_ I quietly snicker before changing the song that's playing. One of Yamaguchi’s favorite songs starts; a love ballad from America.

    _He’s such a sap too…_

   It's adorable teasing him about how much he loves those sickeningly sweet songs because he gets so flustered and embarrassed. Yet he still keeps recommending artists and albums and songs and instrumentals to listen to; his resilience and resolve so unbreakable.

   And I keep adding more music to his playlist, the one I made for specially for him.

   There’s a fair amount of songs on the playlist; each one bound to a special meaning, or a warm memory that I never want to forget.

   The song that’s playing during our first kiss when we were both fourteen and so incredibly nonplussed at our feelings for each other yet unable to resist pressing our lips together. There's the song Yamaguchi quietly sings when we’re hanging out in one of our rooms just relaxing and he thinks I'm not paying attention even though I am. And the one we would listen to as children; every lyric invigorating the memories of us goofing off and practicing volleyball and growing up together occupy a spot on the list. Every song, every memory and emotion, there.

   That’s sappier than just listening to the songs right?

   I can't help it, Yamaguchi brings out the weak in me. But it's not like I put up any resistance anyway.

   He practically has complete control of me. And I'm okay with that.


End file.
